


Wreck Me, Kapitän

by pippen2112



Series: Du musst nur fragen [You Need Only Ask] [3]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Campaign 2 (Critical Role), Clothed Sex, Communication, Developing Relationship, Dirty Talk, Dom Fjord, Dom/sub Undertones, Dry Humping, Fjord figuring out he wants to dom sometimes, Introspection, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Probably OOC but fjuck it LET THEM BE SOFT TOGETHER, Referenced Shadowgast, Sensuality, Sub Caleb Widogast, soft domination
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:54:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23118796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pippen2112/pseuds/pippen2112
Summary: “What do you need,Bärchen?” Caleb says, shifting so his hands rest on Fjord’s chest, hovering just above his heart.“I don’t know,” he says, leaning down and pressing his mouth to the column of Caleb’s throat. Caleb gasps softly, low and needy as he tilts his head back and lets Fjord take. A moan wells in his chest as he sucks a mark on Caleb’s neck and feels Caleb’s hips buck forward into him. Feels Caleb’s groin thick and hot against him. “Gods, Cay, I feel like…”“Like what?” Caleb asks, voice thin and rough with desire.Fjord reels him in by the hips, grinding his cock against Caleb’s stomach and groaning. “Like I’m two seconds from tearin’ off your fancy new duds and wreckin’ you.”And I know that’s not how we do this.A low keen fills the room. Fjord blinks and pulls back just in time to see Caleb with his head thrown back, his cheeks flushed pink, his mouth tipped open into a tantalizing “o”. “If you tear them off, you’re the one asking Jester to Mend them,ja? Otherwise—” Caleb worms his arms out from between them, drapes them over Fjord’s shoulders, and hauls Fjord in to murmur against his lips, “wreck me,Kapitän.”
Relationships: Fjord/Caleb Widogast
Series: Du musst nur fragen [You Need Only Ask] [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1389733
Comments: 12
Kudos: 311





	Wreck Me, Kapitän

**Author's Note:**

  * For [twoheadedcalf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/twoheadedcalf/gifts), [AgentBuzzkill](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentBuzzkill/gifts).



> Hey, this series isn't dead! Special thanks to Nev and Erin for prompting this, along with the WF and CritGoals discords. Y'all are the reason I do what I do :) <3

A few days after they’ve settled in the Xhorhaus, Caleb goes out shopping and comes back with a paper wrapped parcel. Fjord doesn’t think anything of it until Caleb comes out to breakfast the next morning, his ragged, threadbare clothes replaced with a close-cut tunic, tight breeches, and a pair of well-crafted boots. He’s shaved off his scruffy beard and pulled his hair back out of his face, quiet pride radiating from the set of his shoulders and the slope of his mouth. 

Fjord’s grip goes slack, and his fork clatters onto his plate. He can’t help it, he just gapes. Openly gawking. Unabashedly staring as heat rises in his cheeks and in his gut, arousal waking up his groin. He’s always known Caleb was attractive, but Caleb has done a good job of hiding behind grime and muck and baggy clothes. And now here he is, standing in the kitchen while the Nein sits down to breakfast, looking damn near indecently beautiful. Fjord doesn’t know if he wants to wrap himself around Caleb so he can hide him from the rest of the world or tear off his clothes and fuck him against the wall. Or both. 

Luckily, his own reaction gets lost as Jester and Nott exclaim almost in unison, “Caleb, you look so good!” Jester is out of her seat in a heartbeat and already admiring the new clothing. “The color really compliments your complexion. You look so handsome!”

“When did you pick this out?” Nott asks, surprise and concern bright in her voice. “You’ve barely left the house since we’ve been here.”

Blushing bright pink, Caleb ducks his chin and nods toward the table. “Yasha was kind enough to put in an order for me a few days ago.”

Yasha inclines her head, grinning her same sad smile. Beau furrows her brow and crosses her arms. “Kinda flashy, isn’t it? Or are you just trying to look the part so you don’t get shanked if you wanna go out on your own?”

“That had crossed my mind, yes,” Caleb admits, “but I thought, you know, when in Xhorhas, best not to dress like a child of the empire. And I thought it was time for a change.”

Before Beau can retort, Caduceus gives a slow nod and replies, “It suits you.”

Caleb’s cheeks burn a little brighter, and Fjord’s gut jolts, his hands aching to ruck up that tunic and run his hands over Caleb’s chest and waist until he’s blushing for another reason entirely.

Before he does something truly embarrassing, Fjord offers a quick compliment and excuses him for a walk around the neighborhood, a little exercise and distance to get his head in order. He ends up spending the better part of the morning roaming the Firmaments, drawing a few odd looks but happy to ignore the locals and be ignored in turn. More than once, he thinks he’s ready to return, but after a few steps, his mind will wander back to the few nights he and Caleb have spent together since arriving in Xhorhas, the late evenings and early mornings spent finding a little more peace from Caleb’s hands in his hair and sweet, sinful instructions whispered in his ears, and Fjord has to make the block again to quell his desire. 

By the time he returns to the Xhorhaus, it’s nearing evening. He comes up the block just in time to see a now-familiar drow figure departing the house: the Shadowhand Essik Theylas. 

Fjord squares his shoulders, puts on a winning smile, and makes his approach. “Good afternoon, Shadowhand. Any news from the Dynasty?”

The Shadowhand stills for a moment, recognizing Fjord’s presence only a moment after he speaks. He inclines his head in greeting. “Good afternoon, Fjord. No, nothing to report. I had stopped by to make sure you were all settling in well. It should have been a short visit, but I confess, Mr. Widowgast and I began discussing spell craft, and time slipped away from us.”

All at once, something hot pulses in Fjord’s chest. His jaw clenches instinctively, but he swallows hard and forces himself to retain his composure. “Oh? Anything particularly interesting?”

“Oh, wizards talking shop. I don’t believe it would be too useful to the layman. But it was stimulating conversation. I hope we can spend another afternoon together soon.”

A thousand images flash through Fjord’s mind in a second, and he hates each one more than the last. Essik and Caleb laughing while discussing theories he can’t hope to comprehend. Essik lleaning close to put a hand on Caleb’s knee. Tipping up Caleb’s chin and closing the distance between them to kiss. Fjord has to clench his jaw to stop himself from outright snarling. _Gods, what is wrong with me today?_ It takes a moment longer, but Fjord forces himself to smile and nod. “Well, I won’t keep you. Have a good night.”

“You as well,” the Shadowhand replies before gliding down the street and continuing on his way. Completely unaware of the turmoil he’s set swirling through Fjord’s mind.

With a slow, purposeful exhale, Fjord turns back to the house and makes his way inside, the chime over the door clattering as he steps inside, but he ignores it, pressing onward up the stairs to bed down for the evening. To get his head properly in order since apparently he can be rattled by just a few sentences. Honestly, he doesn’t know what has him so on edge. Previously when he’s felt like this, he’s asked Caleb to put him on his knees for an hour so he can let go for a while, but now the thought of it has him twitchy and anxious like his skin has shrunk too small to contain him.

But just as he gets upstairs, he feels the quiet prickle of magic at the back of his mind and hears Caleb’s voice. _“Fjord, if you aren’t busy, would you come down to the library please?”_

Heart thundering in his chest, Fjord gulps and clears his throat. “Yeah, just give me a moment.”

“ _Take your time, Bärchen.”_

He doesn’t reply, instead slips into his room, shirks off his armor, and changes into a fresh set of clothes. He doesn’t know what Caleb wants or what he might have planned, but he needs a little comfort right now, something to settle him. He splashes some water on his face from the wash stand and takes a few deep breaths to steady himself before returning downstairs and making his way to the library, offering only a nod of greeting as he passes Beau and Jester heading back upstairs.

Opening the library door, he finds Caleb seated on one of the sofas, nose deep in a book, though not anything academic if the scandalous title is anything to go by. The top buttons of his tunic are undone, baring the long column of his throat, and some stray strands of hair have fallen loose around his face. If Fjord thought he was attractive before, all done up and pretty, now Caleb is absolutely devastating. Especially when he looks up over the book and his eyes brighten with a grin.

Breath stuck in his throat, Fjord pushes the door closed behind him, his hand clenched around the handle to stop himself from lunging across the room right from the get-go. “You wanted to see me, Caleb?” he says as smoothly as he can manage.

“Hallo, Fjord,” he says, closing the book with the slightest glance to the page number. He stands, leaving the book on the arm of the sofa and crossing toward the center of the room, his hands clasped together behind his back. “ _Ja_ , I wanted to make sure everything is alright. You left so suddenly this morning.”

Throat constricted, Fjord ducks his head for a moment, bringing his free hand up to rub the back of his neck. “Right. Sorry. I just…” Any number of lies come to mind, forming sweetly on his tongue, but he banishes them with a sigh. “I guess I haven’t been myself lately.”

Before he realizes it, the toes of Caleb’s boots step into his field of vision, and a tender hand lands on his shoulder. Comforting. Pacifying. Any other day, the gentle touch would have him on his knees and purring. Today, he flinches without meaning to, pressing farther back into the doorway and biting his tongue to stop himself from growling. Gods, what has gotten into him? He’s relished his time with Caleb, so why does the thought of sinking into that quiet place in his head make him feel nauseous?

“Fjord?” Caleb’s voice comes to him quietly. Cautiously. Like he’s afraid. Fjord looks up to find Caleb watching him, his eyes wide, his brow creased with concern, his hand hovering midair over Fjord’s shoulder. 

Fjord takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “Sorry, I…” he trails off, unsure of how to finish the thought. 

“Take your time,” Caleb whispers, still not touching Fjord but not backing away. For that alone, Fjord could weep with gratitude. 

He droops forward, pressing his forehead against Caleb’s and laying his hands on Caleb’s hips. Up close, he breathes deep the smell of soot and sparks and sweet molasses, expecting to feel soothed. Instead, the energy thrumming in his chest winches tighter.

“What do you need, _Bärchen_?” Caleb says, shifting so his hands rest on Fjord’s chest, hovering just above his heart.

“I don’t know,” he says, leaning down and pressing his mouth to the column of Caleb’s throat. Rakes his tusks against the tender flesh like he’s been aching to all day. Caleb gasps softly, low and needy as he tilts his head back and lets Fjord take. A moan wells in his chest as he sucks a mark on Caleb’s neck and feels Caleb’s hips buck forward into him. Feels Caleb’s groin thick and hot against him. “Gods, Cay, I feel like…”

“Like what?” Caleb asks, voice thin and rough with desire.

Fjord reels him in by the hips, grinding his cock against Caleb’s stomach and groaning. “Like I’m two seconds from tearin’ off your fancy new duds and wreckin’ you.” _And I know that’s not how we do this._

A low keen fills the room. Fjord blinks and pulls back just in time to see Caleb with his head thrown back, his cheeks flushed pink, his mouth tipped open into a tantalizing “o”. Before he can stop and think better of it, he buries his face back into Caleb’s neck and nuzzles at Caleb’s pulse point, tasting his fluttery heartbeat and roiling desire. “If you tear them off, you’re the one asking Jester to Mend them, _ja_? Otherwise—” Caleb worms his arms out from between them, drapes them over Fjord’s shoulders, and hauls Fjord in to murmur against his lips, “wreck me, _Kapitän_.” 

With a low growl, Fjord surges forward and kisses Caleb, fucking his tongue into his mouth and groaning when Caleb sucks on his tongue. He hauls Caleb up in his arms and crosses the room in a few easy strides, setting him down on the desk. Papers and books scatter under them, but Fjord pays them no mind. Instead, he lays Caleb out on the desk and kisses every patch of skin he can find. 

Caleb groans in turn and bucks against him, hips working in an urgent, eager rhythm. He clings to Fjord’s shoulder and wraps his legs around Fjord’s waist, drawing him closer and closer until Fjord has to brace his hands against the desk to keep from crushing Caleb. Even then, Caleb arches up against him, panting. “Fjord. Fjord, touch me. _Bitte._ ”

Fjord can’t help his low moan as he nibbles along Caleb’s collarbones. He grinds against Caleb, his mouth going dry as he feels the heat of Caleb’s cock against his despite the layers separating them.

“Fjord,” Caleb pleads, hands fisted in his shirt. “Fjord, _please._ ”

“Hush, darlin’,” he growls against Caleb’s throat. 

Caleb shivers, and thrusts up against him, scrambling for all the friction he can get.

Instead of giving in to the pleasure, Fjord pulls Caleb’s hands from his shoulders and pins them against the desk. He feels more than hears Caleb’s gasp, and from the way his eyes dilate even further, Caleb likes it. A lot. Chest puffing with pride, Fjord grins down at him and presses a little more firmly at his wrists. “Be patient while I make you feel good.”

Keening, Caleb bites his lip and nods fervently. “ _Ja_ ,” he pants, “all right.”

With a grin, Fjord squeezes his wrists once in a silent command before running his hands down Caleb’s arms, his claws rasping along the fabric. Caleb lets out a breathy whine but keeps his arms up by his head, hands fists and brow wrinkled in focus. And oh, that’s a good look on him: flushed and aching and eager. If their positions were reversed, Caleb would say just the right thing to make Fjord melt and moan. Instead, he kisses down Caleb’s chest, pushing the collar wider instead of tending to the clasps on the tunic. He presses his tusks to the swell of Caleb’s pectorals, and Caleb bucks against him, cock twitching needily. Greedily.

“ _Sheisse,_ ” Caleb gasps as his hips grind forward without him, seeking out any small bit of stimulation.

“You like that, Cay?” he asks into Caleb’s neck, his hands trailing down Caleb’s sides.

“ _Ja. Bitte,_ Fjord.”

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs, taking Caleb’s hips firmly in hand and slowly his pace to a filthy grind, long slow strokes, a parody of what they both want while Caleb’s still wrapped up tight in his pretty new clothes. “Show me what feels good.”

Caleb moans, the noise bitten off as he arches up into Fjord, hips circling and thighs clenching tight around Fjord’s waist to draw him in closer. Ever closer. But no matter how he begs and squirms, his hands stay pressed to the desk where Fjord left them, and Fjord can’t help the possessive growl that rumbles through his chest. He thrusts into the cradle of Caleb’s hips, grinding in a delicious counterpoint and driving them both closer and closer to the brink.

He pulls back just enough to get an eyeful of Caleb splayed out against the desk, hair a mess, clothes rumpled, every inch of creaming skin flushed ruby red. All for him. All because of him. Fjord pulls Caleb up so their hips fit together, his thrusts gaining speed. He can’t help it as his real voice slips out at the sight before him. “Fuck, you’re beautiful, darling.”

“Fjord,” Caleb whines, bucking wildly against him, eyes dark with want and lips bitten and bruised. “ _Bitte_ , Fjord, I cannot last, _Bärchen_. Please.”

“Let go, Cay,” he growls, gripping hard with his claws. “I’ve got you. Let me see you come.”

With a cry, Caleb’s back bows fully off the desk, grinding up against Fjord with such force Fjord nearly stumbles back. But Caleb holds him tight with his legs around Fjord’s waist, and in moments, his breath sputters, his rhythm falters, and Fjord feels Caleb collapse under him, cock twitching as he comes in his trousers, not a hand on him. 

It’s more than Fjord can take. Purring with pride, he splays himself out over Caleb, rutting against him hard and fast, seeking his own release. Caleb whimpers under him, probably hypersensitive after his orgasm, but his legs stay tight around Fjord’s waist, holding him in place so Fjord can feel the warmth spreading between them. Because Caleb trusted him in turn.

A handful of haphazard thrusts, and he spills with Caleb’s name on his lips, dropping onto the desk with a groan. He pants to catch his breath, trying to recover even though his legs feel like jelly and his mind is slowing to a halt. Especially when Caleb’s fingers sink into his hair at the nape of his neck, scratching lightly. “I think I may have underestimated you, Fjord,” he whispers, playing with Fjord’s hair. “That was quite a wrecking.”

He leans back, glancing up at Caleb quickly. He’s flushed from their coupling, and a light sweat glistens along his brow. Fjord’s heart aches from just looking at him, and he wants to fuck him all over again. To make him look so pleased an relaxed all the time. But no, not yet. Now he gets to take care of Caleb. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asks, slipping back into his usual accent.

“ _Nein, Bärchen,_ ” Caleb replies, his free hand coming to cup Fjord’s cheek. “You did wonderfully.”

Another purr rumbles deep in his chest as his cheeks burn. He nuzzles into Caleb’s hand and presses a quick kiss to his palm before rising and pulling Caleb up in his arms. “C’mon. Lets get you cleaned up.”

Chuckling lightly, Caleb wraps his arms around Fjord’s neck and kisses him deeply. When they part, Caleb’s eyes are glossy and a small smile curls at the corner of his mouth, and Fjord’s breath sticks in his chest. “Stay with me tonight, _ja_? _”_

Heart leaping in his chest, Fjord kisses him as he walks them both to Caleb’s room. “Always, darlin’.” _Always._

**Author's Note:**

> Questions, comments, and concrit welcome!


End file.
